Reflections on life: the funny, poignant, serious and quirky

The first stanza of this poem from one of the Five Poets, Lenore Langs, is the perfect way to start off the week:

She Never Finished Anything

was distracted from her prayers

by the flash of a finch’s wing

decided to follow a regime

of monday cleaning tuesday laundry

but took her coffee

to the backyard for ten minutes

on the first monday

and stayed all morning

watching the light change

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

on the leaves of the lilac.

(Photo credit: Brother O’Mara)

I love this poem for so many reasons. I remember that my mom had wash day on Monday, ironing day on Tuesday, and heavy duty cleaning day on Friday (she cleaned every day but especially on Friday); and Friday night was grocery night and on many a Saturday night we had sandwiches and potato chips and not a big meat and potato meal that we had every other day of the week. I loved the Saturday suppers — so relaxed and everyone would seem to be in a good mood. Mom would set out the cold cuts and lettuce and condiments and pickles and we would make our own sandwiches around the kitchen table. And if Mom had not baked we would have probably made a Saturday trip to town to the bake shop and feasted on jelly donuts for dessert. Heaven!

I love your post today. What a wonderful poem. I love the irony that she is distracted away from her prayers to appreciating nature and God’s creation. I also love your memories of simpler times when Monday was washday. I remember it all.

We always had fried chicken or roast beef with vegetables after church on Sundays. Then we’d play in the backyard, there would usually be a radio playing rock somewhere, the garage while Daddy worked on something. Daddy would mow the yard and we always had a garden. My parents always had such a bountiful garden and they took so much pride in it. Every time I smell honeysuckles or cut grass, I think of those things.

My mom was a working mom, so things got done when they got done – but Sundays were always a quiet day that started with church and ended with a family dinner and a roast beast of some kind. I am like the lady in the poem – likely to start out with good intentions of becomming organized and then distracteed by something much more interesting.

my mom started working outside the home on a regular basis when I was in grade eight — so things changed then and My sister and I and my youngest older brother were responsible for meals, some cleaning etc —
I am much like Lenore too

I remember the same type of routine in our house when I was growing up, but that was back in the day when the mom could stay at home and was actually able to clean the house regularly. I just don’t have the time it seems to keep up with my house, and I’m finding I just don’t care anymore. My house is tidy and fairly organized but not clean :). Spring cleaning – what the hell is that?? LOL

Days gone by seemed so much easir. Then again – I had no responsibilities like I do now. I was blessed with wonderful parents who always took care of us, had food on the table for us & kept us in clothes that always fit. And – I never heard a complaint out of them either. Who knew things were really not that easy? They sure made it seem so ;)

My most blissful memory is of being about 8 and living in Perranporth just up the hill from the beach. I used to get dressed in my swimming costume (cotton with shirred elastic squares, remember?) and go to the beach in the morning, only coming home when I was hungry and going back as soon as I had had my sandwich. Making friends with new people week after week was great fun too as they came and went on holiday!

I’ve tried to organize my cleaning chores like that… but I’ve never been successful. I like it because you can consider yourself ‘done’. By just doing things as I do them, there is always MORE to do, and I feel guilty if I’m not doing it. I like a tidy/clean house but I hate doing the deed. As for ‘no cook’ nights … I have a lot of those!

What wonderful memories. My mother had quite the routine, too, even down to which day of the week we had spaghetti. Our cold cuts, potato chips, and ice cream meal was Sunday evening. Potato chips were so special on that one day a week. Things certainly do change. Love the poem; thanks for sharing.

One of my blissful memories is the smell of burnt toast and coffee, neither of which will I consume. I love the smell though, because it was what I would wake up to whenever I spent the night at my Nana’s house. I don’t know why, but she likes burnt toast. :)

Love the poem. The speaker sounds like someone I would get along very well with. ;)
There was a brief period of time in my childhood when nearly every Sunday afternoon, my mom would take my sister and I to Disneyland. We live about 20 min away from it and at the time, we had yearly passes so we certainly made good use of it. It’s not so much about Disneyland as it is the memory of being with my family and just enjoying the time we had together that I really cherish. :)

~ AWARDS ~

I will no longer be accepting Awards.
I am honoured to be remembered, nominated and given awards but I will not partake in the Award "ceremonies".
Thank you to all who have given me awards in the past: you make my soul sing.